In the gospels, the Pharisees (translation: “Righteous Ones”) seem to be Jesus’ favorite target for criticism. They were persnickety if not fanatical in their obedient adherence to the Law of Moses. In time, they had come to heap regulation upon regulation—all in attempts to practice obedience to the Law. Jesus entirely blows their code out of the water. We will examine this more closely beginning in June with a sermon series on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, but we can locate our own inner Pharisee by responding to a simple question: 

I’d rather be right than _________________ (fill in the blank).

“Wrong” is the obvious answer—and yes, we’d all rather be right than wrong, but consider some alternatives: 

I’d rather be right than happy. Yet many people erode their own happiness (and that of those around them) by insisting upon being right. 

I’d rather be right than useful. People who are always right tend to think they’re being useful by being right, but the need to be right can prevent people from usefully cooperating with others.

I’d rather be right than thorough. Life, reality, and the faith are not simple and easy things—they are deep and complex realities for which simple, pat answers provide no real gratifying understanding.

I’d rather be right than good. People who focus on their own right-eousness are often intolerable companions and extremely difficult team members. 

I’d rather be right than Christlike. To put it bluntly, this is which makes Pharisaism damnable. 

Being right—even in the sense of correct—can get in the way of being happy, useful, or even Christlike. Being right is the righteousness of the self-righteous—those who depend upon their own rightness or righteousness to secure the favor and good will of God.  Scripture condemns it cover to cover.

The Church through history has seen many manifestations of this false righteousness, and it raises its ugly head in every era and perhaps within every congregation. Christian fundamentalists and puritans have no monopoly on dogmatism; they are merely the poster children for being self-righteousness. 

Fundamentalists are the easiest target. Wielding a simplified code of self-selected biblical texts, they seek a righteousness for themselves and for their world that is measurable and believably attainable. You and I will never measure up, never quite be good enough. Once you come to Jesus, the code of absolute sin is replaced by a code of discipleship that may be equally unobtainable. In its worst manifestations, a fundamentalist community is a joyless team of mutual score-keepers, locking every soul down into a lose/lose spirituality. This is Christian Pharisaism of one sort—of righteousness gone wrong.

In our larger world beyond the Church, Pharisees flourish as well. So-called Progressives seem to be the new Fundamentalists; they are more right than right. Standing at the ready to correct you for sexist language, racist innuendo, earth insensitivity, homophobia—or whatever infraction happens to be climbing up their list du jour—were it not for their TOM’s vegan slippers and hemp keffiyehs, they would be the very image of the joyless, self-righteous Puritan (the stereotype, anyway). They are the Correct Ones, ever eager to correct you and draw you into conformity with their enlightened agenda. They are fierce with each other—constantly raising the bar and shifting focus onto some new aspect of their emerging righteousness. They are right, and the more right they are, the more devoid of real virtue and the more useless to the Kingdom of God. Again, righteousness gone wrong. 

There are other “Always Rights” out there—the confirmed Darwinist, the neo-atheist, militants, politicians—all are types of “code adherents” who, regardless of their particular code, make their way through life carrying golden yardsticks out in front of them. Whoever or whatever crosses their path is immediately and rigorously subjected to that rule. They may in some sense may be correct, but their correctness may have taken on a character that is un-Christlike and ultimately unhelpful to the Kingdom of God. 

How do we live without our manmade codes [okay, human-made]? Maybe we find agreement on some things we are just not going to talk about for awhile. Just long enough for the code-happy enthusiasts to settle down. We agree not to discuss certain things that are likely to divide us: sex, politics, and Donald Trump.

This isn’t head-in-the-sandism, but reform in the sense of returning to our first love. A moratorium on being right in favor of renewed devotion and community-building. We don’t have to talk about things in the ways we talked about them in the past. We must not; it doesn’t work. It’s already been not working for many years. 

Let us return to Christ in humility and spend our time in devotion and praise of His name. Let’s be willing to be called “wrong” for doing what is loving and unifying as we humbly serve Him together. In the final judgment, God doesn’t seem much interested in who is right and who is wrong. He is interested in gathering His own sheep. They are the ones who know His voice and—whether right or wrong on lesser matters—come when called.